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12/21/97
It's 4:00 AM and I'm sitting in the Tucson bus station, along
with many, many others. It's the Sunday before Christmas and
people are waiting for buses that are two to three hours late.
A lady is lying on a blanket on the floor, fast asleep, and a
couple of guys are slumped by the wall. I have my bag in line
by the door for the bus that is suppose to arrive at 4:30 on it's
way to Los Angeles. When I bought my ticket, the lady told me
that in the El Paso station there were 2000 people waiting for
buses. This near the Mexican border, most of the people are heading
to Mexico to spend Christmas with their families down there.
The others, like me, are waiting for the cross country buses to
take them to their families. This is one of the main corridors
from the east to the west coast. The schedule I'm taking goes
from Miami to Los Angeles. At Phoenix we'll hook up with other
routes flowing across the country.
They have six sections running on my schedule varying from 10
minutes to 2 hours late. Since I'm in front and need only one
seat, I get on the bus that finally leaves Tucson at 5:00 AM.
There is a lady on the bus with four children from grade school
to high school. They're coming from Birmingham. The children
are sprawled across the seats, and each other, and their legs
dangle in the aisle as they slumber through the night. Up ahead
is another lady with a baby.
People have their things bundled up in plastic bags and duffle
bags and suitcases. People riding buses don't tend to pack as
neatly as for planes. They use whatever they have. They also
bring food and things to drink, as long as it's not alcoholic.
The drivers don't allow that.
Phoenix is a cleaning stop so we all have to get off for an hour.
The old Phoenix bus station was downtown and you could even
find a place to eat besides the bus station. The new station
is near the airport and in the middle of nowhere, especially since
none of us have cars. Just a bit too far to walk to the airport
but too long to hang around the bus station. It's not finished
yet so, hopefully, it will improve when it is done.
At Phoenix several servicemen from Missouri end up on our bus.
One of them sits by me and tells me he's a marine and is going
home to Long Beach to spend Christmas with his mother. He's Vietnamese
and remembers coming to the states as a child. There are a couple
other marines and some air force and army guys. We are told that
this section will go straight through to Los Angeles, except for
a meal break at Blythe, CA. This is a parking lot behind a McDonalds,
right off the interstate. In the back corner of the parking
lot is a one room building that serves as the depot. Several
people are waiting to get on a bus, but get turned away as they
are coming in filled to capacity. And they are coming in. The
entire time we are there they keep coming in. Christmas is coming!
Greyhound has all their buses on and have chartered buses, to
handle the passenger load. With a bus you don't make a reservation,
but just show up and get on the bus. If you've ridden buses before,
you show up at least half an hour before, and, better yet, an
hour early so you can get in line and get the best seats. Greyhound
has shown quite a lot of improvement in the last several years
in, not only handing the passenger load, but staying reasonably
on time. They are as good, or better, than Amtrak, even though
Amtrak allows reservations and knows how many people will be coming.
Their bathrooms are also quite clean now. The terminals need
some work though.
Everyone grabs a bite to eat or just stretches their legs and
soon we are off again. The driver only makes one more stop, a
quick stop at a Quick Stop, before we reach Los Angeles. We rise
into the Sierra Nevadas and then roll through San Bernadino and
down into the city. Some of the armed forces guys go into the
bathroom and change into their uniforms so they'll be crisp and
neat to meet their family and, maybe, a girlfriend they want to
took good for. We pull into the Los Angeles station and the usual
chaos erupts as everyone tries to get their bags from the overhead
and get off. The station is set in a disaster area. There are
few people other than homeless and alcoholics hanging around the
area.
The Los Angeles station is also packed tight. I have an hour
before the bus to Long Beach and grab a cup of coffee and a sandwich
before getting in line for the bus. A couple of the people from
the first bus are waiting also and we wave. Some kids are waiting
with their surfboard. We're in California now. The bus is not
very full. It catches commuters and people transferring from
the long distance buses. Now we see the tiny bus stations. The
Compton station serves local buses also and the Long Beach station
is just a tiny box where the bus pulls into the driveway.
My son is waiting and we're off to spend time together over Christmas.
12/26/97
Friday 8:05 AM - The bus pulls out of the Long Beach station and
I'm on my way home. Christmas came and went too fast. The Long
Beach station is a small box station, though it does have a nice
outside waiting area. When the bus is due, everyone rushes to
line up outside next to the parked cars. The first part of the
trip is a local to San Bernadino and then I'll transfer to the
Tucson bus.
We follow CA-22 and then I-5 north to Anaheim. This is also a
little box station and the overflow is hanging around the parking
lot. Some lady has boxes that aren't properly taped and that
takes a few minutes longer. We go back to I-5 and south to Santa
Ana. The station at Santa Ana is a regional transportation center
and is quite large in a southern California Spanish Colonial.
Both local and intercity buses stop here. We only have ten minutes
here. When we leave one guy is sitting on the entrance stair
as we are full to capacity.
We take Ca-22 east (the Garden Grove Freeway) and then CA-55 north
(Costa Mesa Freeway). We run through the hills back from the
coast and get onto CA-91 north. Snow is on the mountains in the
distance - a southern California white Christmas. Traffic is
fairly light. Most people won't be heading home till Saturday
or Sunday.
The houses spill across the hills in rows and clumps. Some rows
are at the top of the hills, just house after house and each one
alone and separate. They look like they're sitting up there to
watch a parade or a tournament. We cross I-15 and are looking
directly at the mountains with the snow on them. It looks cold
outside and I feel cozy looking out. It's fun looking down on
the cars scurrying along beside us.
We exit at Riverside and go past a gothic church tower and pull
into the Riverside transportation terminal. This is also the
terminal for Riverside RTA buses. We get back on CA-91 north.
The bus driver doesn't have a watch. He lost his and keeps asking
for the time. The freeway turns into I-215 north and then we're
at San Bernadino.
I have a couple hours before my connection so I take a walk around
town. There's a library just a block away with a nice art display
and a mall a few blocks away. Not a whole lot actually, but it's
not a bad area, that I can see, though there are several boarded
up stores. The city buses run within a few blocks. I get some
lunch and then return to the bus station.
I get in line for the bus to Tucson. It is coming in from Los
Angeles. The station is full and quite a few buses keep arriving
and leaving. The bus arrives and we board and head out to I-215
south and then I-10 east. Now I'm in familiar territory again
having driven from Tucson to Los Angeles several times.
Our first stop is Indio which has an old desert colored tile building.
It looks like it's from the 50's. From there we start the steady
climb into the Sierra Nevadas. I see a notice that there is radiator
water available and the land becomes drier. The foothills in
the distance are a thin line of gray between the tan and shale
desert and the blue mountains. The desert is flat for miles on
both sides.
At Blythe we once again stop at the McDonalds. They must make
most of their money from bus passengers. I watch the sunset before
we leave Blythe. There is a pure gold to the west with blue sky
below and then the dark blue mountains. It's dark when we reach Phoenix and, again, we have a stop to clean the bus. Back on for the final stretch to Tucson. I arrive tired but ready to go again. |